


When You Come Back to Me Again

by Orange17



Series: When You Come Back to Me Again [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/F, No Revenants, POV Waverly Earp, Sorry Party (with hats)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-07 22:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange17/pseuds/Orange17
Summary: Nicole and Waverly finally sit down to talk everything out after season 2. Sorry party (and hats) included, as well as a whole lot of angst.





	1. At the Mercy of the Sea (or Sorry Party)

**Author's Note:**

> As we anxiously await Season 3, I wanted to try my hand at Waverly and Nicole’s “sorry party” (with hats of course). I hope is that this is a realistic take on what could happen next for these two. Buckle up, It’s going to be a little angsty, but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Title from When You Come Back to Me Again by Garth Brooks. Chapter titles are taken from song lyrics. That's probably a little cheesy, but it came on when I was working on this and it seemed fitting.

A sharp rap on wood pulled Waverly from her haze of fatigue.

The brunette heard her girlfriend call through the door, concern laden in every word, “Waves, are you ok?”

“Yeah, babe, I’m—”

Bitter stomach acid surged up her throat, cutting off her speech. The younger woman was certain the officer could hear her retching through the thin door.

It was the last place the Earp wanted her girlfriend to find her: knelt in from of the toilet, body racked with dry heaves, tears streaming down her face.

Nicole was at her side in an instant, having pushed aside the unlocked door. The officer stooped next to her and gently pulled her sweaty hair away from her face.

Waverly’s body shook as another wave of nausea hit, forcing more bile into her throat. Her girlfriend’s unoccupied hand rubbed soothing circles on her back.

As her nausea subsided, Waverly thought nothing could be left in her stomach; she had been at this for two hours before Nicole noticed her disappearance from their bed. What little food she had forced down for dinner had long since passed, but her stomach still felt the need to reject every ounce of acid it seemed to contain.

The brunette leaned back from the toilet, hastily wiped her mouth and streaming nose on a wad of toilet paper, and flushed.

“Baby…” Nicole murmured, continuing the movements on Waverly’s back, “are you ok? Did you eat something bad?”

Waverly shrugged half-heartedly and croaked, “I don’t know.”

Those three words were a lie. A blatant lie.

It had started small, with a lack of appetite. That had been easy enough to dismiss, as the younger Earp often forgot to eat when she was focused on research…never mind that it coincided with her kissing Rosita.

But then food lost all appeal. Waverly wrote it off too: she wasn’t hungry and was forcing herself to eat. Stuffing your face when your body doesn’t want it, was bound to cause that reaction. Right?  

The day before Alice was born, it escalated to the point where she couldn’t keep down any food.

It had now been two days since Wynonna left on her motorcycle without an explanation. With Nicole working nearly every waking moment since, Waverly had been able to keep her guilt-triggered illness under wraps, even though her devoted girlfriend spent each night at the homestead.

Nicole reached for a box of tissues and handed one to Waverly, “Can I get you anything? Water? Gatorade? Ginger ale?”

The brunette shot a watery smile at her sweet girlfriend. She couldn’t help it. How could she have cheated on this wonderful woman?

With the surge of guilt, another wave of nausea hit. Waverly leaned back over the toilet bowl as more acid made it way up. Nicole continued to rub her back and hold her hair, this time murmuring soothing words.

In spite of the harsh taste in her mouth and the burn in her throat, Waverly melted into her girlfriend’s comforting gestures and words. She knew that they needed to talk, and she couldn’t put it off any longer; it had to be tonight before this thing ate her alive. The brunette knew this might be the last time Nicole would be a source of solace for her and she couldn’t help but, selfishly, soak it all in.

And the thought that this could be the final time the redhead directed those tender, unselfish words and gestures at her made her heart break. Tears fell from Waverly’s eyes and into the toilet with the contents of her stomach.

When the heaves finally subsided, she wiped her face, blew her nose, and selfishly curled into her girlfriend’s arms, tears still streaming down her face. She tried, and failed, to ignore the nagging thought that she would never be wrapped in those arms again and savor it: the sound of the officer’s steady heartbeat that helped to stabilize her own, the smell of Nicole’s vanilla body wash and mixed with faint traces of sweat, the feel of Nicole’s soft skin beneath her own bare arms, the strength of strong steady muscles holding her unwaveringly. Nicole, who never hesitated in her love for Waverly. And she had ruined it.

“Baby, what can I do? What do you need?” Nicole murmured in her ear.

It took what little strength Waverly had to sit up and force herself out of the warm cocoon of her girlfriend’s embrace.

“Our sorry party,” she sniffed.

“Oh baby, no, not now,” Nicole reassured. “You’re sick. It can wait until you’re feelin’ better.”

“No,” Waverly insisted, voice cracking on that one word. “Tonight.”

The younger woman locked her gaze on her girlfriend’s warm brown eyes. She saw the officer search her eyes, as she’s done so many times before.

“Ok, if you’re sure,” Nicole relented.

“I think it’s passed. Let me clean up a little bit.”

Nicole’s concerned eyes scanned Waverly’s one more time. The officer sighed and placed a gentle kiss on the brunette’s cheek before scrambling to her feet.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Nicole murmured. “Take your time.”

Waverly was still on the floor when she heard the stairs creak under Nicole’s weight. She slowly stood, using the vanity to pull herself up. Her hands shook as she splashed water on her face. She slowly brushed her teeth twice, washed her face, and brushed her sweaty hair before braiding it.  The brunette leaned heavily on the counter, closed her eyes, and silently pleaded with every deity that she could think of for strength to confess her betrayal and forgiveness from her girlfriend.

After several deep breaths, Waverly pushed herself off the vanity and left the bathroom to join Nicole.

She turned into the kitchen and saw her girlfriend at the table, with what looked like a cone on her head.

The redhead smiled brightly, pointing at the cone, “You said we would have hats.”

Upon closer inspection, her girlfriend had made a cap, resembling a dunce hat, with “I’m sorry” scrawled on the front.

Waverly laughed at the adorable sight and her eyes wandered to the table. Another hat sat at her chair, as well as a steaming mug and a can of ginger ale.

“I wasn’t sure which you would want, but I added something special to the hot chocolate,” Nicole said with a wink, her long fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of her own.

Waverly took a hesitant smell, assuming the sweet beverage would irritate her temperamental stomach. Instead, she found her mouth watering, craving something for the first time in weeks. Still unsure, she took a small sip of the warm beverage, face lighting up.

“Where did you get Bailey’s?!” Waverly asked in awe. “And the ginger ale?”

It was her favorite guilty-pleasure liquor, but she never kept it in the house; Wynonna made fun of her too much.

“I tucked a secret stash of both in one of the upper cabinets, knowing you and Wynonna would never find it without a ladder. The ginger ale is for me, in case I ever forget I can’t match the two of you drink for drink,” Nicole said with a smirk. “I may or may not have tucked an emergency bottle of Wynonna’s favorite whiskey there too, but let’s hope we never need it.”

Fresh tears welled in Waverly’s eyes once again. How could she have pushed away and hurt this thoughtful, generous, caring woman that she loved so deeply?

“Waverly,” Nicole sighed, reaching across the table to cover one of Waverly’s hands with her own. “We _don’t_ need to do this right now. It can wait until morning, you need rest.”

Waverly closed her eyes, fighting to keep the tears from spilling over, and shook her head decisively, knowing her voice would betray her. She heard Nicole sigh again.

“Ok, but know if you change your mind, we can pause. Just say the word.”

The brunette slowly opened her eyes and nodded, finding Nicole’s brown eyes locked on her.

The Earp took a deep, steadying, breath as she held her tears at bay for now. Nicole’s hand was still on hers, the officer’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on the fleshly area between the brunette’s thumb and pointer finger. Waverly shifted her hand, entwining their fingers; eyes locked on their connected hands.

“Where should we start?” Nicole asked.

Waverly shrugged indecisively, gaze unmoving.

Nicole’s thumb resumed its movement, as she gently asked, “How about I start with Shae?”

The younger woman forced her gaze upward to the redhead’s face and nodded.

They hadn’t fully discussed Nicole’s marriage yet. There hadn’t been time and all Waverly needed to hear, immediately, was Nicole’s assurance that she was working on a divorce. With that peace of mind, it had been Waverly’s suggestion to wait.

“She told me you met while rock climbing,” the younger woman recalled and then smirked, eyes crinkling, “How much did you win on the slots to lead to a Vegas wedding?”

Nicole chuckled, “$50,000.”

The brunette’s jaw dropped.

“Don’t get too excited,” the officer shrugged, with a sip of her hot cocoa. “Some went towards surgery after a climbing accident days later. I set the rest aside and am using a bit for the divorce.”

Waverly quickly replied, “Shae mentioned you had surgery.”

The redhead’s eyebrows shot up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Waverly trailed off as she recalled the agony Nicole was in at the time that detail was shared. “There was a moment, when you were in the coma, where you were in pain. When the doctors came, they asked if you were allergic to any pain meds and…she knew. I didn’t…and they would’ve given it to you…and it would’ve killed you.”

Silent tears finally escaped from Waverly’s eyes and ran down her cheeks

“Waves,” Nicole breathed, squeezing the brunette’s hand, “I’m sorry. It’s not something that comes up. And I swear, I’m not allergic to anything else.”

“No, I’m sorry!” Waverly cried hysterically. “I could’ve killed you.”

Nicole pulled her chair closer, “But you didn’t, and you know now. I promise, I can tell you my whole medical history if it will make you feel better.”

Waverly nodded half-heartedly, but she knew that wasn’t fully what bothered her about the situation. She paused until the tears faded off.

“Nicole, you’re married,” Waverly whispered, and then echoed the question she voiced while Nicole was in a coma, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The officer ran her hand nervously through her hair, knocking her forgotten hat off, and her gaze fell to the table.

“I wanted to Waves, but…”

“But?” Waverly questioned.                                                                                   

Nicole finally met her gaze and replied slowly, “But I was scared. How do you tell the woman you love that you made a life-long commitment to someone else and it didn’t work out?”

The redhead paused, eyes brimming with tears. She cleared her throat before she continued, “Waverly, I want to be a steady, unwavering, constant in your life and admitting that, admitting that I blindly jumped into a marriage that failed, it goes against everything I want to be to you. I—I know we have other things to talk about, and I have other apologies I need to make, but at the heart of all my mistakes has been a desire to be there for you and care for you.”

Nicole’s voice broke on the last word. The redhead pulled her hand from Waverly’s, using both palms to hide her face. The brunette took in the signs of the officer’s silent sobs: shoulders shaking and small drops pelting the table top.

Waverly yearned to pull the older woman into her arms and wipe away the tears. Instead, she stretched her hand further across the table, in offering for when her girlfriend was ready. She heard all she needed to about Nicole’s marriage.

“Nicole,” Waverly whispered, “why did you keep the DNA results from me?”

The younger woman watched as her girlfriend completely fell apart: she slumped to the table, a pitiful sob escaping her lips, as her shoulders shook. 

“I—I…” Nicole croaked; they were the only words she managed before her voice was taken over by sobs.

Waverly pulled her chair closer to her girlfriends and rubbed circles on her back: mirroring the action Nicole had done only an hour before.

“Nicole, I’m here. Take your time. I just want to understand,” the brunette murmured.

It took several minutes until the officer sat up again; her face dried on some tissues the younger woman grabbed. Waverly observed that her girlfriend was still visibly uncomfortable, shoulders tense, bottom lip trembling, and fingers restlessly tapping on the table.

The younger woman reached out and took one of the redhead’s fidgety hands and wrapped it in her own.

Nicole sighed, “I—I was worried about you. Between Willa, Mikshun, and Wynonna’s pregnancy, it hasn’t been an easy stretch. I know how important this is to you and I was afraid it would be…too much.”

“Is that why you opened them?”

The officer nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, “I did it so quickly and I didn’t think it through at all. I just wanted to know if I needed to be careful. If it was good news then you could see them anytime, but if it wasn’t, I didn’t want them to pile on.”

Tears fell from Nicole’s eyes again, as she sobbed, “Waves, knowing I broke your trust, it hurt. But knowing that you had to read those results alone has tormented me. I promised that I would by your side in this, and I _wasn’t_. I tried to barrel through it to protect you and I messed up, _so badly_.”

The redhead was overwhelmed by tears again, but this time Waverly didn’t comfort her sobbing girlfriend. She kept her hand in the officer’s grip, but couldn’t bear to move because Nicole was right.

Waverly wasn’t naïve in sending in the DNA test; she knew that it was likely that it wouldn’t come back as she hoped. But reading the paperwork near the lake, without Nicole by her side was as devastating as the results.

It was a sick irony that she returned to where she nearly drowned to read the results, because, in that moment, it felt as if that icy water was filling her lungs once more as it took up all the space that air should occupy.

The brunette was pulled from reliving two unfortunate memories by Nicole finding her voice again, “I never, _ever_ should have kept those papers from you and I should have **_never_** opened them. I should’ve worried about how I could support you and be there for you, either way. I was wrong, _so wrong_ to do that. You were right to push me away and call me out when I wasn’t giving you space—I deserved all of it and more.”

Waverly sighed, the realization dawning on her that the time for her confession was quickly approaching. She squeezed Nicole’s hand gently as she gathered her thoughts.

“Nicole, regardless of my feelings, I never should have shut you out and I _never_ should have sent that text,” Waverly began.

“No, you were right,” the officer stated, without hesitation.

But the younger woman could tell something was bothering Nicole, as the redhead’s fingers twitched in her grip.

“Do you really think I’m a control freak?”

“No, baby,” Waverly sighed, resting her forehead in the palm of her free hand, “That night was such a mistake.”

“Why?” Nicole asked, not missing a beat.  

This was the moment Waverly had been dreading. Her mouth was dry as she tried to swallow. Slowly, she shifted in her seat, wrapping Nicole’s hand in both of hers.

“I was at Shorty’s with Rosita…she, uh, had a gift card to a spa and suggested we get away, since I was, you know…” Waverly trailed off, unsure if there was a word to describe emotional cocktail of hurt, ire, disappointment, and uncertainty she felt in that moment at the bar.

She shook her head slightly; even if there was such a word to eloquently sum up her feelings, she couldn’t bear to say it to Nicole. Not now, not knowing where this story was heading. It would be callous to burden Nicole with those feelings; the older woman knew, without her saying it, how much hurt came from the actions.

“I know,” Nicole breathed, tears welling up in her eyes.

“So, we went,” Waverly blurted out, willing herself to keep eye contact with the redhead and pushing through this story before she lost her nerve. “And it was nice and, um, we were in a hot tub, drinking champagne—that was when you kept texting me—and…”

Waverly’s eyes fell.

“And that was when you sent that text?” Nicole questioned.  

The brunette nodded, while she still looked at her knees. This was it: this was the moment where she had to tell Nicole before this guilt ate her alive.

She took a deep steadying breath and forced her gaze back to her girlfriend’s face. Nicole’s brown eyes stared steadily back at her, wide with confusion, waiting to see where this was going.

As much as she didn’t want to see the hurt envelop those caring eyes, Waverly knew she had to see it: see just how much damage her moment of betrayal hurt her girlfriend, see the moment she stops loving her. It seemed a worthy punishment for her mistake.  

“Nicole,” the brunette’s voice broke and tears spilled from her eyes, but she willed herself on, “I kissed her.”

There was a lingering moment where Waverly was sure the officer hadn’t heard her: the older woman didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe.

But then everything shifted.

Witnessing the transformation in those sweet brown eyes was worse than reading the DNA results alone, worse than the hurt every time Wynonna left, worse than Willa’s cruel acts during their childhood. But watching as Nicole’s watery eyes drifted from understanding to confusion, open to guarded, and care to anger left her as breathless as feeling ice crumble beneath her feet and frigid water burning her lungs.

“No,” Nicole breathed, searching Waverly’s face, “No, you didn’t?”

Waverly bit her lip as silent tears fell, knowing there was nothing she could do to assuage her girlfriend’s feelings. Or turn back time.  

Nicole pulled her hand from Waverly’s and stood, turning her back to the sitting brunette.

“Was this to get back at me?” Nicole hissed, hurt echoing in every syllable.

“No!” the younger woman hurriedly assured.

“Waves, this isn’t an eye-for-an-eye situation. That’s not how relationships work, or at least not healthy ones. I know I hurt you. I know I did something _horrible_ but if any part of you kissed Rosita to hurt me as much as I hurt you—"

“No!” Waverly cried, “I don’t even know how it happened—”

Nicole finally turned, tears streaming down her face, arms crossed over her chest, and mocked, “It usually happens when you put your lips on someone else’s.”

Waverly’s sobbed, making her almost incoherent, “Nicole, I’m so sorry…I never meant for it to happen. And I truly don’t know why I did it.”

An uneasy silence fell between the women. Waverly was consciously aware that her sobs were the only sound in the room. She chanced a glance at Nicole. Mute tears streamed down her girlfriend’s face, brown eyes locked on the floor.

The brunette slowly stood, aware that Nicole’s eyes darted up, warily tracking her movements. The younger woman took a tentative step toward the redhead, who immediately stepped back, maintaining the distance between them.

Waverly put her hands up and shot an apologetic look.

Nicole sighed, hastily wiping tears from her face as they continued to roll down her cheeks.

“Is this why you’ve been sick?” the redhead asked flatly. “Don’t lie to me, I know tonight’s not the first time.”

Waverly nodded, caught off guard by the emotionless tone of the older woman’s voice; she didn’t even sound like the Nicole she knew.

The redhead didn’t say anything in response, so she added, “Guilt has been eating at me since it happened.”

It was Nicole’s turn to nod in acknowledgment. She sighed again, “Is there anything else I need to know about the kiss?”

Waverly nodded again, shakily finding her voice, “I—I regretted it the second it happened. It felt all wrong…because it wasn’t you.”

Her voice broke on the final word and a fresh stream of tears gushed from her eyes. Through the drops, the younger woman looked at Nicole’s eyes and took in the storm still swirling.

Waverly thought she would never see the love pouring from those brown eyes again. The thought nearly brought her to her knees and she grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.

“Is this it for us?” the younger woman whimpered, terrified of the answer.

Nicole sighed again, “I don’t know.”

It was too much. Waverly’s knees buckled as she imagined life without Nicole: waking up alone, not being truly seen by anyone again, missing that dimpled smile, warm brown eyes never searching her own again. The ache in Waverly is overwhelming as fleeting lonely images cross her mind.

She doesn’t remember falling to the floor, but Nicole’s at her side in an instant, holding her up, pulling her close when she murmured, “I know, I never thought I would say that.”

Waverly sobbed, unable to say anything. She’s unsure how long had passed when she has cried herself out. The smaller woman leaned further into the officer, devouring all the comfort from Nicole’s arms while she can.

Her breathing slowly evened out and the older woman continued to hold her.

Nicole finally broke the silence with a shaky voice, “I think we both need time. Time apart.”

Waverly can hear the pain in the officer’s voice and forced her gaze to those brown eyes once again. Silent tears continued to fall down the redhead’s pale cheeks.

“I think we need a break,” the older woman stated.

Waverly’s heart screamed in protest. The last thing she wants is a break; she wanted to hold Nicole, kiss her until the pain clouding her eyes went away, utilize every waking moment to earn her girlfriend’s trust back.

Instead, the brunette whispered “Ok.”

Nicole stumbled to her feet and extended a hand to pull Waverly to her feet.

“I’ma go,” the redhead mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still new to this whole fan-fic thing, so I appreciate all tips, suggestions, and feedback. Thanks for reading!


	2. Tossed About

Waverly glanced at the clock on the stove, “Nicole, it’s 3 a.m. You’re not driving in the middle of the night.”

“But—”

The brunette cut off Nicole with a stern look. “Would you let me drive home if it was the other way around?”

The redhead’s gaze didn’t move from the floor as she slowly shook her head; albeit, reluctantly as Waverly could tell.

“I’ll take the couch, you can take my bed,” Waverly offered.

Nicole shook her head again, “No, sleep in your bed.”

\--

Waverly set up the redhead with a blanket and pillow before retreating to her bedroom. Though she laid in her bed, fatigue weighing on her like a weighted blanket, she was sure rest wouldn’t come. Not that night at least.

Within minutes, Nicole’s sobs from downstairs carried through the thin walls. Each cry felt like a knife through the brunette’s heart. Every instinct in pulled for her to move her legs and go to the older woman’s aid; instead, she bundled the sheets in her fists and gripped them as tightly as she could.

\--

She awoke to two jarringly different senses: the smell of food in the air and an ache in her hands. The brunette slowly opened her eyes, and her gaze immediately drifted to the empty space next to her. For a fleeting moment, her brain added the smell to the vacant side of the bed and concluded that Nicole must be downstairs, cooking breakfast. Happiness briefly overtook logic.

Her attention was then drawn to the pain. She wiggled her fingers and found that the sheets remained locked in her fists, her knuckles stiff and sore from the position.

Slowly, Waverly recalled her last waking moment: holding the sheets in a death grip to Nicole’s cries from downstairs. As she relived the events from earlier in the morning, it dawned on her that she never, realistically, expected the officer to still be there when she woke up.

But then who was cooking?

Four blankets were carelessly tossed aside as Waverly jumped from the bed at the thought: either Nicole was still in the house or Wynonna had come home. As she frantically hurried from her room, she wasn’t sure which woman she would rather see at that moment.

Like a kid on Christmas morning, she jumped the last two steps in her haste and sped to the kitchen, her socked feet slipping slightly on the hardwood floors.

Waverly’s heart sunk slightly as she took in the empty kitchen. Undeterred, she turned on her heel and rushed to the living room. The lingering aroma of food that hung in the air the lower level assured her that someone was still here. And it smelled edible, so Wynonna couldn’t have been the one in the kitchen.

The Earp froze in the doorway, eyes locked on the unoccupied couch. Her gaze fixed on the pillow she had given Nicole, the accompanying blanket neatly folded on top of it.

Without conscious direction, her feet carried her to the couch. Waverly took the pillow in her arms and hugged it to her chest, smelling vanilla mixed with…something. She apprehensively took another whiff.  

With a surge of guilt, she recognized it as salt; salt from Nicole’s tears.

Tears fell thick and fast, mixing with the Nicole’s dried ones on the pillowcase. Waverly was unsure how long she sat there until the smell of food hit her again. She automatically rose and returned to the kitchen.

This time, her eyes caught a piece of paper on the kitchen table, next to a single place setting. The brunette hurried to snatch it off the table. Her eyes immediately recognized the handwriting as Nicole’s:

\--

_-Waves,_

_I’m sorry I left before you woke up, but I feared, if I stayed and saw you, I would say or do something I didn’t mean or would regret._

_Asking for a break is as scary for me as I imagine it is for you, but please know this does not mean the end of us or that I care for you any less; rather, I know I need time alone to process both of our recent actions. I’m still troubled by how I handled your DNA results and, without trusting myself fully to not breach your trust in the same way again, it’s not fair to you for me to be a part of your life._

_You deserve BETTER than that._

_I think you need time too. You said you don’t know why you kissed Rosita and that, candidly, worries me as much as the action itself. I hope, with the guilt of keeping this from me lifted, the reason can come to light for you._

_To, hopefully, ease the anxiety that I’m sure you are feeling this morning and as a token of my love for you, I’ve made your favorite breakfast. It’s in the oven to stay warm, as well as fresh sliced fruit in the fridge and coffee in the pot._

_Please give me time. I promise I will be back—as long as you want me._

_With love,_

_-Nicole_

\--

And Waverly fell to the floor.

Once again, she wasn’t sure how long she sat there. This time, on the floor, clutching Nicole’s words to her chest. Tears fell thick and fast until her skin felt raw.

Eventually, the brunette pulled herself to her feet, her mind numbly registering that the oven was turned on. Waverly turned the knob to ‘off’ and, without thinking, opened the door to see what Nicole had left for her.

Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she smelled before she saw, French toast. For the first time in weeks, her stomach rumbled, craving food.

As she mindlessly grabbed a mitt and pulled the tray from the oven, she smiled at the predictability of Nicole’s cooking.

The officer had a limited range of culinary skills, that mainly consisted of breakfast items and baked goods. But the few things she made, she made well. If Nicole was cooking for the two of them, it often meant breakfast, regardless of the time of day.

Her mind went back to the first time Nicole cooked dinner for the two of them...

\-- 

_“It smells like breakfast in here,” Waverly had remarked, as soon as she crossed the threshold to Nicole’s home._

_She could see a slight brush grace the cheeks of the usually confident redhead._

_“I hope you don’t mind, but **it is** breakfast food,” Nicole replied, as she led them to the kitchen. “I guess I should have warned you.” _

_It was early in their relationship, but, even from behind, Waverly could feel the officer’s nervousness._

_“It’s perfect,” the brunette answered, taking one of Nicole’s hands in her own. “What did you make?”_

_The older woman turned and flashed her a dimpled smile, “I’m honestly not the best cook, but everyone loves my French toast…and hopefully, my girlfriend will like it too.”_

\--

The smell of the French toast in front of her brought Waverly back to the present. Nicole hadn’t been lying back then; it truly was her best dish, and it quickly became Waverly’s favorite. Even Wynonna would trade in her usual donut for the officer’s French toast.

The brunette allowed herself a small grin as she enjoyed it, in spite of the notable absence of the chef. The occasional tear still fell, as she pushed aside the thought that this could be the last time the officer cooked for her.

With a full belly, and the confident feeling that this would stay in her stomach, Waverly felt better than she had in weeks despite everything that happened in the past few hours.

After cleaning up, she grabbed Nicole’s blanket and pillow from the couch and put them on her own bed, on the officer’s side, for when she returned. Her gaze caught her phone on the nightstand, she seized it to tap out a quick message: _Thank you for the French toast! I read your note. Take all the time you need, I’m here when you are ready. I hope you made it home safely. I love you._

\--

The bright moment quickly faded as Nicole’s absence from her life crept in. The next few days passed in a haze of heartache and grief. Time continued to be a foreign concept, as it fluxed between seconds and minutes crawling to hours spanning without Waverly moving from her bed or the couch.  

Wynonna returned, two days after Nicole departed the homestead, cryptic about her trip, and then spent nearly all her waking hours at the BBD office.

Waverly was grateful for her sister’s return. For one, she was no longer alone at the homestead. And, whatever the heir had found, meant the younger Earp was pulled into more research for Dolls. Feeling like a bit of a recluse, she often worked from home, hesitant to return to the station and risk running into Nicole.

But it wasn’t enough to keep her mind occupied. She asked Doc for some shifts at Shorty’s to take her mind off the love of her life and escape the homestead. With Rosita’s departure, he was happy to have an extra set of hands that knew their way around the bar.

As much as the brunette wanted to respect Nicole’s desire for space, she grew restless and impatient. She allowed herself one moment of weakness each day: one text message to the woman she loved. One text where she poured out her love and regret. And her heart broke a little more each day when the messages went unanswered.

Waverly knew it wasn’t fair; she ignored the Nicole for days when the tables were turned. But she can’t seem to help her growing impatience and frustration at this situation she was left to stew in.

Each night, Waverly pulled Nicole’s blanket and pillow close, breathing in the lingering traces of the redhead. Though the smell comforted her as she fell asleep, it wreaked havoc on her sleeping mind.

Each night, she was subject to the same nightly torture: a dream that started with her racing down the road in her Jeep, trying to reach a dying Nicole. Every time, the scenario was different. Sometimes the officer had been shot, sometimes revenants had her, and, in others, she was otherwise gruesomely injured. And each time, Waverly was too late. Without fail, her mind presented her with Nicole, cold and dead in front of her, body mangled in varied ways.

Each night, Waverly woke in a cold bed, body covered in sweat and face painted with tears. More than once, she was startled to find Wynonna at her side, trying to rouse from her slumber. Apparently, she sometimes screamed in her sleep too.

Waverly didn’t need to ask: she knew she was calling out Nicole’s name.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m floored by your response to the first chapter—so truly thank you. Though this is a little bit transitional, I hope it's not a letdown.


	3. Lost and Broken

Waverly had darted in and out of the police station as fast as she could before her opening shift at Shorty’s. Dolls insisted she come by the BBD office for an all-hands meeting and, much to her chagrin, Wynonna, almost forcibly, dragged her along.

Once outside, the brunette breathed deeply for the first time all morning, unwinding from the swirl of anxiety at potentially running into her favorite deputy.  

She turned and trudged towards the saloon.

A week had passed since Nicole had asked for a break. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Nicole; she wanted to desperately, to see if the redhead was holding up as poorly as she was. But Waverly feared proximity to the officer would break her resolve to give the woman time and space.

A familiar laugh pulled Waverly from her thoughts.

She blinked her eyes into focus to observe Nicole and another uniformed deputy striding down the street toward her. Waverly noted the coffee cups in both their hands and recognized the man as Officer Coleman from her old days at Shorty’s. The redhead seemed to be telling a story: the man laughed, as  her arms waved frantically as she spoke.

The brunette flashed her best smile and wave toward the two oncoming officers.

“Hey, Waverly!” the male officer called, before shooting Nicole a meaningful look. “Haven’t seen you by the station in a while.”

Nicole, not so subtly, elbowed him in the ribs as she glared, “I’ll meet you back there, Mike.”

“Sorry, Nic,” he grinned, clearly unabashed. He tipped his hat, “Don’t be a stranger, Waverly.”

Waverly waited until the male officer had continued down the street before taking a small step into the redhead’s space.

“Hey,” she greeted, hesitantly; Nicole seemed to be having fun with Mike, should she ruin it?

The brunette’s eyes hungrily took in her girlfriend. Girlfriend? Was Nicole still her girlfriend if they were on a break? She subtly flicked her head, trying to shake that thought from her brain.

Her gaze intently took in the tired features of Nicole’s face: the way her brown eyes were slightly bloodshot as they drooped, with the bags just below, marring the officer’s pale skin. Clearly, the redhead wasn’t sleeping well either. But her eyes were soft, tender and it warmed Waverly’s soul, as if the sun peeked through the clouds to just shine on her.

The officer’s voice pulled her back.

“Hi…um, how are you?”

Waverly shrugged and lied, “I’m ok. You?”

The younger woman watched as Nicole bit the inside of her mouth as if she was debating how to answer. Waverly saw the moment of decision in those brown eyes.

“About the same,” the redhead answered, rubbing the back of her neck.

A tense silence fell between the pair. Waverly toed the ground nervously; she knew what she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how it would be received.

Nicole opened her mouth to speak, but the younger woman beat her to it.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” she blurted out before she could think better of it. Her cheeks flushed, as she clarified. “I mean, if you’re not ready, it’s ok and I understand, but I’m working at Shorty’s until 7, could we maybe catch up later?”

She saw the officer’s cheeks start to burn.

“I would _really_ like to, but I’m kinda busy the next few days,” Nicole replied sheepishly, as she shifted uncomfortably. “Can we get coffee next week?”

“Oh,” the shorter woman replied, crestfallen. She paused and continued before she could think better of it, “What are you doing?”

Waverly watched as the blush on the older woman’s cheeks became increasingly evident. She barely listened to Nicole’s bland excuses. Instead, her focus was drawn to the palpable discomfort the redhead had at the question: her body tense, her knuckles white as she gripped her belt with one hand and the coffee cup in the other.

“Do you, like, have a date?” the brunette hollowly joked.

“No!” the officer insisted quickly, eyes wide.

Waverly’s eyes stretched too, she stammered, “You do, don’t you?”

“ _God Waverly_ ,” Nicole recoiled, “if that’s what you really think I’m doing then maybe we don’t need to talk.”

The brunette glared, “What does that mean?”

The older woman took another, small step back, shaking her head, “You cheated, but I’m the one who shouldn’t be trusted?”

Waverly could see the glassy look in the officer’s eyes. Her brain knew those tears should be a warning, a call to step back and give Nicole her space. But the anxiety and fear she’s felt since her last conversation with the redhead bubbled to the surface, pushing rational thought aside. 

“You never said you weren’t seeing anyone during this ‘ _break_ ,’” the shorter woman sniped, using air quotes around the last word.

It felt like déjà vu, watching the storm of hurt, distrust, and pain return to the officer’s eyes. It may have been a trick of the sunlight, but, for a brief moment, Waverly was sure she could literally see walls build in those brown eyes that had once looked at her like she was Nicole’s entire world.

She saw the officer’s body tighten, muscles taut under her uniform. Long nimble fingers shook as they tightened their hold on the older woman’s belt. Nicole’s bottom lip trembled, and the redhead quickly bit it to still the tremor.

When Nicole spoke again, the snarl and bite in her tone knocked Waverly on her heels, “I guess it’s too much to assume that I wouldn’t when I’ve _never_ cheated on you.”

Tears swelled in the brunette’s eyes, but the officer barreled on, “But no, I get it. I assumed when we decided to be together that it meant we wouldn’t kiss other people but look at how that turned out.”

There was a split second where Waverly wanted to scream, wanted to yell for the whole town to hear that Nicole betrayed her too. That keeping those papers from her and opening them was a different way of cheating on her.

Instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, willing herself to hold back the tears.

“Ok,” Waverly swallowed, “how much longer are we going to be on this ‘break’?”

The shorter woman used air quotes around that repulsive word again, before she continued, “Because if you don’t want to be with me, then do it already. Don’t leave me in relationship-purgatory. It’s bad enough being in one, I can’t do two.” 

“I can’t do this right now,” Nicole mumbled, turning and taking long strides toward the station.

“Ok, go! Leave me dangling some more!” the brunette cried, hysterically.

The officer turned on her heel, tears spilling from icy brown eyes as she choked, “Fine, we’re done.”

Waverly opened her mouth but, before any words could form, the redhead twisted back toward the station and sped off.

Legs numb, the brunette watched the officer’s back until she retreated into the building.

“Nic…” she breathed, as her heart broke.

\--

Waverly’s body was on auto-pilot: she didn’t remember walking the rest of the way to Shorty’s, setting up the bar for the day, restocking, hearing anyone’s orders, filling them, or taking them back to waiting customers.

But the evidence was all around her that the tasks had been completed: she was standing by herself behind the bar in Shorty’s, the door was unlocked, everything was set up as it should be, the bottles fully stocked, and customers were served.

It was only when she stopped, and her hands were idle that she realized how much time must have passed, as she took in the scene in front of her. With a jolt, she glanced at the clock to see it was mid-afternoon.

Her mind was in shock, numb.

She shook her head, willing her brain to wake up. Her eyes took a quick scan of the bar. Seeing that no one needed a refill, she retreated to the bathroom and splashed icy water on her face. The brunette shifted her head again, and slowly the fog seemed to lift.

\--

An hour later, Waverly was on her knees behind the bar, cursing that she woke up her paralyzed mind.

It was twisted, she thought, that Champ begged her to turn off her brain for years and it finally had for Nicole. And, at that moment, the brunette would’ve done anything, _anything_ , to turn it off again.

A dustpan and rag in hand, she swept up the fourth shattered glass since her return from the restroom.

Apparently, she was better off on auto-pilot because now her thoughts were stuck, like tires in mud, spinning around Nicole. With her mind elsewhere, her clumsy fingers had not only dropped glasses but overfilled drinks and pulled the wrong tap handles.

Though her thoughts were clouding her reputation as Purgatory’s favorite barmaid, it allowed her to gain perspective on her conversation with Nicole from the morning. With a twist of guilt, she knew she jumped to conclusions and pushed the officer when the woman had asked for time.

Under her breath, she cursed. She shouldn’t have even texted Nicole. It was selfish. She had been selfish.

She shook her head again as the one calming thought made its way back to the front of her mind. Break or no break, Nicole was right: she would _never_ go out with someone else.

Waverly stood slowly, and, catching Doc staring at her intently from the other side of the bar, immediately lost her footing, nearly ending up on the floor again.

She cautiously sat down the dustpan and rag, placing a hand over her racing heart.

“Doc! You scared me,” she faltered.  

“My apologies, Waverly, I assure you that was not my intent,” Doc drawled.

“What are you doing then?” the brunette accused.

“Merely wonderin’ where you’ve been all day.”

“I’ve been here…” Waverly replied, timidly. Though she was sure she had been at Shorty’s all day, she honestly couldn’t remember to be sure.

“Physically, yes, but I daresay your mind has been everywhere but. I doubt prior to today that you’ve broken a single glass in all your years of working at this fine establishment.”

The Earp’s gaze fell to the worn wood bar top, as she idly grabbed a clean bar rag and twisted in her hands.

“Are your thoughts on Miss Haught?” Doc asked.

The brunette didn’t need to ask if or how the gunslinger knew.

“She told you to call her Nicole,” Waverly mumbled, deflecting.

“Indeed, she did. But, in my day, it was a sign of respect to refer to a lady in such a manner when they were not present.”

“And you respect Nicole?”

“I certainly do,” Doc nodded, before adding. “And I believe you do too.”

“I do,” Waverly sighed. “And I owe her an apology.”

Doc glanced at the clock, “Go. Ronnie’ll be in soon. I can handle this,” one arm swept around the bar, vaguely pointing at the few people scattered around, “myself.”

“Are you sure?” Waverly checked, already grabbing her things.

The older man chuckled, “Indeed, I am. I do own this place after all, I think I know my way around.”

With a quick peck on his cheek, she murmured “thank you.”

\--

Waverly wanted nothing more than to push the gas pedal of her Jeep to the floor and speed to Nicole’s house. Instead, she went slow, actually under the speed limit for once, as she contemplated her words.

As she turned down the officer’s street, she slowed her Jeep to a crawl as self-doubt washed over her. What if Nicole didn’t want to see her? What if she didn’t hear her out? What if she slammed the door in her face?

The redhead had been unambiguous in asking for space after all. Waverly shook her head. She couldn’t bear the thought of Nicole, in her house, alone, after their conversation today. She had to try.

In front of the officer’s house, the brunette slammed a foot on the brake pedal. The SUV jerked in response, as Waverly’s eyes roamed the driveway, taking in an unfamiliar lifted, yellow Jeep Wrangler with thick, deeply treaded off-road tires parked in the younger woman’s usual spot.

Her heart sunk as her eyes widened in disbelief.

“No…” she breathed.

Her gaze shifted to the house and, through the curtains, she could see the soft glow from lights inside. Panic hit her: Nicole is at home, with someone else.

“No…no…no,” she cried softly, tears falling thick and fast.

Movement pulled her from her thoughts, and her eyes shifted to the front door as it opened.

The horror of Nicole finding her there spurred her to action. Her foot slammed down on the gas pedal, and the Jeep jerked to life from its idle location. The tires squealed, and rubber tracks burnt on the pavement as she sped down the street, willing herself not to glance in the rearview mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sure this isn’t what you were hoping for, and I’m sorry…but it will get better. Happy ending guaranteed. Next chapter hopefully up on Friday. 
> 
> I'm contemplating adding a version from Nicole's POV once this is all done. Thoughts?


	4. Wandering Aimlessly

News spreads quickly in small-towns, and Purgatory was no exception. Especially when it came to new inhabitants.

For Waverly, that meant it was both a blessing and a curse that the mystery surrounding the yellow Jeep was short-lived.

It only took one shift at Shorty’s to learn that the new Jeep that was driven by a transplant to Purgatory. That new inhabitant also happened to be a recent addition to the sheriff’s staff, replacing a recently retired officer.  

The whole town was enamored with the newest deputy, seemingly overnight, excited over the prospect of having an officer, with commendations from her time in Vancouver, join the force.

But for Waverly, the kicker was that this new resident was recruited by a friend that she went to the police academy with, one Officer Haught. 

This news tested a new resolve the brunette made during a sleepless night after speeding away from the officer’s house: to give Nicole time and space.

\--

When she first stumbled into the homestead and blindly tottered up the stairs to her bedroom, tears obscuring her vision, Waverly knew she was paranoid.

Of course, her brain would panic and jump to the worst conclusion that the redhead was seeing someone else, because isn’t that just what happened when people were on breaks? Weren’t Ross and Rachel a perfect example of why breaks were a horrible, and inevitably relationship-ending, concept?

She shook her head willing the worst-case scenario aside. They weren’t characters on _Friends_ , they didn’t live in New York.

This was Nicole.

Nicole who wore her heart on her sleeve, who was honest, caring, and would stop at nothing to protect Waverly.

And was probably hurting, just as much as the brunette was.

Fresh tears leaked out of the brunette’s eyes, at the pain and jealousy that coursed through her veins at the idea that whoever owned that mysterious yellow Jeep was likely comforting the officer.

Waverly knew she lost all right to be upset over it, because the mess she was stewing in at that moment was her fault; _she_ overstepped, and pushed, and ultimately all of her fear, hurt, sadness, anxiety, and, above all else, pining for Nicole got in her way of wanting to make things right.

It wasn’t an excuse—she was the one who let those emotions get the better of her actions.

With a sigh, and hastily wiping away tears, she reached into her nightstand and pulled out Nicole’s letter. The once smooth, unblemished fibers were now crinkled and splotched from re-reading and fallen tears.

But this time, for the first time, the brunette read it and agreed with Nicole on one thing: Waverly had needed time too.

Time was the last thing she had wanted when the Earp had read the letter for the first time, and every time since. She wanted to jump head first into repairing their trust and proving her love and dedication to Nicole.

But the redhead was right: she needed to better understand how her emotions could cloud her actions because that was precisely what happened with Rosita.

Waverly’s eyes shifted back-and-forth across the page as she read and reread one particular line: _You said you don’t know why you kissed Rosita and that, candidly, worries me as much as the action itself. I hope, with the guilt of keeping this from me lifted, the reason can come to light for you._

The brunette sat the letter aside and put her forehead in her palms. Yes, her emotions got the best of her, but it didn’t fully justify—

Her brain lurched to a halt as realization washed over her. She was jealous of the idea of Nicole finding comfort in someone else when she had done the exact same thing with Rosita.

A fresh wave of guilt hit as she deplored over that kiss, for what felt like the millionth time, finally understanding that she had been searching for comfort in leaning in against Rosita’s lips.

It was so simple, but so hard to pull out of the tangled whirlwind of emotions, she felt in that fleeting, impulsive moment.

And Waverly’s mind immediately jumped to what-ifs. What-if she had leaped out of the hot tub and sought out Nicole instead? What-if she hadn’t even been at that damn spa with the revenant to begin with? What-if she hadn’t avoided Nicole? What-if she hadn’t been callous and childish?

She shook her head, willing her brain to cut off the toxic stream of thoughts. Going down that rabbit hole would do her no good, and it certainly wouldn’t change the situation she was in now.

The brunette picked the letter back up, running her thumb over the words “with love” and Nicole’s signature, before carefully tucking it in her nightstand.

Waverly leaned back on her pillows with heavy eyes, still in her Shorty’s uniform but too tired to change.

She assumed sleep wouldn’t come, at the realization that acknowledging a mistake (or several) didn’t necessarily mean she could fix it. And, as hard as it was to admit, waiting for Nicole to come to her was the only way this could be repaired.

The brunette finally drifted off as the sun peaked over the horizon. And for the first time since admitting her betrayal to Nicole, she had a dreamless sleep.

\--

Resolving to give the redhead space, didn’t stop her from being confused. And curious.

As Waverly threw herself into research, shifts at Shorty’s, and yoga, she racked her brain for any time Nicole could’ve mentioned one particular name: Erin Reid. Sure, Nicole had told her stories about her fellow cadets from her academy days, but the Earp couldn’t recall the redhead ever specifying their names.

The researcher in the brunette mentally filed away every detail she could about the new officer, from her short blonde hair and steel blue eyes to her neatly trimmed nails, trying to recall every aspect of every academy story Nicole ever told, in an attempt to connect any to Deputy Reid.

As days passed and she saw the two officers around town, Waverly could tell that the blonde was an inch or two shorter than Nicole, but with broader shoulders than the redhead. Though thin, the newer officer appeared more muscular than the redhead and evidence, in the form of Erin breaking up a fight between two drunken, able-bodied farmhands at Shorty’s with ease, supported that theory.

Though Erin seemed to be a city girl through and through, her wardrobe, including the well-worn and faded Quebec Nordiques baseball hat that always covered her hair when off-duty and flannels of seemingly every color, fit right into the small town. Not to mention the yellow Jeep that could frequently be seen tearing up the streets of Purgatory.

\--

Waverly had left the BBD office for some fresh air and wandered to the diner, hoping some comfort food would raise her spirits. The brunette sat in a booth by the window, picking at some fries and reading when movement outside pulled her attention.

She took in Nicole and Erin, across the street. Both officers were out of uniform and Erin, as usual, wore that stupid weathered hat. Waverly’s gaze was fixated on the way the redhead paced, visibly upset, as her lips moved frantically, and arms failed. 

After trying, and failing, to return her attention to the words on the page, Waverly leaned closer to the window, sure that they wouldn’t see her looking from the other side of the street. Her eyes were first drawn to the blonde who seemed amused, her lips tilted up in a half smile, but then her gaze shifted to the newer officer’s eyes. Even from across the street, their steel blue couldn’t hide the officer’s concern at whatever was happening.

As the brunette wondered why Erin was trying to put on a façade for Nicole’s sake, the blonde spoke up.

Waverly inwardly cursed that she couldn’t read lips and made a mental note to see how hard it was to learn.

Erin continued to speak, and she reached up to wipe at Nicole’s eyes. The redhead let out a small laugh, and a grin stayed on her face.

The brunette felt her stomach sink as she registered the newer officer must be wiping away tears.

Nicole quickly closed the distance between herself and the other woman, pulling the blonde into a tight hug.

Even from afar, Waverly could tell how much the redhead had leaned into the embrace and that the other officer was taking on much of her weight.

“Break it up, break it up,” the brunette murmured to herself, willing the two to separate, wondering when a hug was too long to be platonic.

When they finally did, Erin wiped away more tears from the redhead’s face as she spoke again. 

Waverly felt her lungs freeze when the blonde wrapped her arm around Nicole’s waist and pulled her down the street.

\--

After witnessing the scene outside the diner, Waverly wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that she started running into Erin everywhere, rarely without a redheaded appendage.

It was definitely worse that the blonde went out of her way to wave or greet her by name and the damn new deputy couldn’t be friendlier.

\--

“What?!” Waverly huffed indignantly. “Why would you say that I would go along?”

Wynonna shrugged, “Um, you like drinking…”

The younger sister rolled her eyes as she chopped vegetables in the kitchen of the homestead, “It’s not the drinking that’s the problem.”

The heir stole a carrot from the cutting board and munched, “Aw, c’mon Waves, you’ve been cooped up here too much, you need to get out.”

The younger woman glared, “I told you, Nicole wanted space. And I don’t want to spend a night out with my ex.”

“C’mon, you know she’s not going to be your ex for long. You two are like, hopelessly in love…it’s gross,” Wynonna added with an eye roll.

“But what about Erin?”

“What about her? She’s great! Can hold her liquor much better than Haughtshot. And it was her idea for you to come along.” 

“I’m _not_ going,” Waverly repeated, turning away from her sister.


	5. There’s a Lighthouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of mixed feelings about this chapter. I wrote it, massively revised it, and ultimately went back to what I originally planned/intended. I hope you like it, but, as always, I would love to hear what you all think.

At the groan of the hefty saloon doors opening, Waverly’s attention was pulled to the entrance. She sighed at the sight of her newest patron and turned her back to the egress as the wood doors slammed shut, echoing around the near empty bar.

She sensed the new customer drawing closer and turned to see Erin, settling onto the barstool across from her. Out of habit, she took in the officer’s slim fitting light washed jeans and soft orange flannel with a light gray henley underneath, both sleeves pushed up to expose muscular forearms. And, of course, the same stupid hat covered her blonde hair.

The brunette knew the frustration and jealousy she felt brewing under her skin were misdirected at the new deputy. With a deep breath, she pushed it aside as she asked, “What can I get you?”

The blonde tilted her head slightly, as if she could see through the bartender’s tone to the bitter emotions that swirled beneath the surface. Waverly squirmed under the scrutiny and couldn’t help but be reminded of another officer who often looked at her with the same questioning expression.

“Whatever your favorite whiskey is, on the rocks,” Erin answered easily, head still tilted.

The brunette couldn’t help the snort that came out at the word “rocks.” And Wynonna thought this girl could hold her liquor?

The bartender noticed as the curiosity in the officer’s features grew at the noise and how her lips turned up in a small smirk.

Without abash, Waverly poured the drink with one hand and slapped a napkin in front of the blonde with her other.  She sharply sat the glass onto the paper product and looked up into the officer’s face.

“Anything else?”

She watched as gray-blue eyes scanned the entire bar, taking in only two other customers.

The blonde pulled out her wallet and placed a bill on the bar top as she inquired, “Have one with me?  Since you don’t want to go out with Wynonna, Nic, and I.”

Waverly hesitated for a split second, inwardly cursing her sister for revealing that to Erin.

Though her gut told her this was a bad idea, she pulled a glass out for herself and filled it, neat, in front of the blonde, “You know the ice ruins it, right?”

The blonde chuckled as she sipped her drink, “I do, but getting drunk is not one of my goals for this afternoon.”

“Hm…then what are you doing here?” Waverly asked, downing her drink.

The smirk on Erin’s face grew as she added another bill to bar top, gesturing for the brunette to have another, and replied, “Just meeting Nicole here after her shift. I’m a bit early.”

Waverly tried, and failed, to stifle a groan as she poured herself another glass. The idea of the two officers spending their evening at the bar while she worked was tortuous.

“And that was on purpose, so you can ask me why I don’t want to hang out with you and Nicole?” the brunette guessed, not caring that her tone was short. “I’m going to kill Wynonna, by the way.”

The blonde held her gaze and grinned, “Easy there, I am deputy after-all, even if I’m off duty. And to answer your question…among other things, yes.”

Waverly shot the blonde a puzzled look. She curled her hand around her whiskey glass, wanting to down it again but settled for a sip. Her gaze was drawn to the way Erin nervously twisted her bulky, black watch around her wrist.

“So, you and Nicole went to the academy together, right?” Waverly asked, breaking the silence, eyebrows furrowed slightly in apprehension. 

“Yep, she was my roommate,” the blonde admitted.

Erin continued, sharing some story about how they first met and got off on the wrong foot, but Waverly barely listened, instead registering how her stomach dropped at the reverence in the blonde’s tone and how her eyes shifted to more blue than gray as she spoke about Nicole.

The Earp had tried and tried to toss aside the nagging, paranoid, unwilling to listen to logic inkling that the two officers were together, but this felt like proof; proof that something more than friendship was there.

Finished with her story, Erin took a large sip from her glass as Waverly blurted out, “And you two are together now?”

The officer sputtered, spraying the brunette with whiskey.

“Oh my god,” Erin gasped, eyes wide, as she stood and reached across the bar, fumbling for napkins, “I’m so sorry.”

Waverly held her eyes closed for a second, a drop of whiskey tumbling from her nose, before sighing as she reached for a clean rag, “No, it’s alright.”

She deserved it, the brunette thought, to have Nicole’s new flame basically spit on her; it was overdue karma for everything these past few weeks.

A calloused but warm palm gently covered her hand, and she looked up into baffled steel blue eyes.

“Nicole and I aren’t together.”

The brunette’s eyes bulged, as warmth swelled in her chest; it felt something like…hope? But it almost seemed too good to be true.

The officer chuckled as she removed her hand and settled back onto her stool, “We’re just friends. _Always_ have been.”

For the first time, Waverly noticed the unmistakable warmth in Erin’s eyes, in spite of their icy color. The brunette searched for any sign of deceit in the officer’s features.

Seeing none, she held up her hand and downed the rest of her whiskey, “Hold that thought. Let me change into something less sticky.”

The officer laughed again and nodded, “I’ll be here.”

\--

Waverly changed into a spare shirt and washed her face in the bathroom in record speed, willing her brain to harness the elation coursing through her body.

She practically ran back behind the bar to return to the new deputy, wanting to know more. But this new revelation added to her confusion: why hadn’t Nicole told her that Erin was moving to Purgatory if they were just friends?

She poured herself a fresh glass of whiskey and topped off Erin’s, waving away another bill, as she settled on her next words.

“What do you mean ‘always?’” she asked, apprehensively.

“We’ve never been more than friends,” Erin replied simply, pausing for a sip of her drink and smirking over her glass. “Actually, I taught her everything she knows—well in some areas.”

The blonde added a wink to the end before continuing, “The poor country-bumpkin was like a fish outta water, trying to hit on girls in the bars in Ottawa and fumbling over her words,” the blonde paused to allow a shit-eating grin to grace her face. “I helped her find a way to make that ‘ma’am’ and ‘darlin’ drawl work for her.”

The brunette rolled her eyes but was unable to subdue a small smile.

“Somehow, I think the two of you were trouble.”

“Oh, we were,” the blonde admitted, sipping her drink.

Waverly paused, unsure how to ask what she really wanted to know, as she worried her lip. But she didn’t know how much the new deputy knew about her and Nicole.

“Are you both getting into trouble in Purgatory?” she mumbled. 

“Me? Always. I can’t seem to escape it…it just has this…knack…for finding me,” the blonde admitted, sipping her drink.

Waverly caught the way the officer’s tone changed, tilting slightly sour, and eyes took on a faraway look, as she spoke; the bartender had a feeling the other woman had a different type of trouble in mind. Something about the intonation made her heart go out to the deputy.

Erin blinked a couple times and her eyes shifted back to the present.

“But I have a feeling you’re more curious how your ex is doing.”

Waverly’s eyes fell to the bar top, guilty. Her stomach churned at the thought that Nicole’s friend knew everything.

Erin didn’t add on, immediately.

Anxious and unable to remain in suspense longer as the silence grew, the brunette forced her gaze back to the blonde’s torn face: her lips were pursed and pushed to one side, as if she was contemplating her answer.

“She’s not getting into any trouble,” the officer, finally, gently reassured. 

The brunette downed the last of her whiskey and traded her glass for water, looking disappointed at the change in beverage. She looked around the saloon to see that they were now the only ones there. Her gaze moved to Erin, twisting her watch again.

“Did you know Nic volunteered at an animal shelter when we were in the academy?” the officer asked, forcibly stilling her hands and bringing her glass to her lips again.

Waverly shook her head, eyebrows furrowed.

The blonde nodded, “We both did, when we had free time. Sometimes, we got assigned jobs there that not every volunteer gets because we both had a lot of experience with animals and our academy training gave us a different skill set. When animal control was busy, we’d go out on stray animal calls.”

Erin paused before asking, “Have you ever tried to catch a stray dog?”

Waverly shook her head again, unsure where this was going.

“It’s not hard,” the blonde stated simply, “But you have to know what you’re doing. Otherwise it can get dangerous. Even the sweetest, cuddliest family pet will attack you if it’s threatened or scared—”

“So, you never corner them?” Waverly interjected, realization dawning on her.

“Exactly,” the blonde nodded again, seemingly pleased that the bartender understood. “Instead, you let them come to you. Sometimes, you have to coax them, give ‘em treats…but—but you can’t force them.”

Erin paused and took another sip of her drink; her eyes gave away the apprehension the blonde had in saying whatever words were on the tip of her tongue. 

“Otherwise you might get bit,” the officer finally added, with a pained expression.

Waverly’s face fell as she absentmindedly grabbed a spare rag and twisted it between her fingers.

“I cornered Nic by not giving her space?” the brunette breathed, eyes fixed on the bar top.

Her hands continued to fiddle with the rag absentmindedly, and the blonde was silent, as if waiting for her to answer her own question.

“I got lost in those puppy eyes and forgot there’s an attack dog in there,” Waverly replied with a shaky laugh.

Erin laughed too, “You’re right, she’s basically a big German shepherd. Care for her, love her, and she’ll give you the sweetest puppy eyes. She’ll be loyal and protect you like no one else.”

The brunette’s mind flashed to the times Nicole unquestionably put herself on the line to protect Waverly. As the reel played in mind’s eye, she could almost feel the redhead’s coiled body in front of her, guarding her. The brunette’s heart panged at the phantom contact.

Erin’s voice pulled her back to the present.

The blonde spoke with trepidation, as if unsure if she was overstepping, “But she’s been through things. She’s as human as anyone else…and she’s put up with things no person should have to…if she’s put on the defensive, attacked in certain ways, that self-preservation instinct is going to come out.”

Waverly’s eyes welled with tears.

The more the brunette digested everything the new officer had told her, the guiltier she felt. Until that moment, she had managed to keep the remorse at bay, staying busy, while she waited for the redhead to come to her.

But now it tumbled over her, twisting in her to a point where she didn’t know which way was up. It was like she was drowning in the icy lake all over again; accidentally swimming lower because she was disoriented and couldn’t tell the difference between the unforgiving depths and safety.

She shook her head, forcing herself to the present. To thoughts of Nicole. And she settled for asking a happier question that had crossed her mind during the story.

“Is that where she got Calamity Jane?”

Erin grinned, “Yep. We both decided that when we graduated, we’d each get one of the animals that had been there the longest. Jane was passed over by so many people. She had a way of getting into trouble every time a potential adopter came into her vicinity, and that prompted Nic to add ‘Calamity’ to her name. It didn’t help the cat’s case that she’s not a fan of men—so she was the perfect match for one of us.”

“Did you get a cat too?”

“Dog actually. I have a blue pit bull mix, named Blake.” 

Waverly beamed, and it the first real smile that had graced her face since Nicole’s last visit to the homestead. She could picture it: Erin and Nicole running around an animal shelter, spoiling all the pets with attention and treats, sweet talking unsuspecting women into adopting pets.

But the smile quickly faded, and her eyes turned glassy; just thinking about the redhead hurt. The ache from missing the love of her life, settling into her bones deeper and deeper.

“I miss her.”

The brunette hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the thought slipped out.

Erin sighed, and the wary look in her eyes wasn’t lost on Waverly, before she conceded, “Nic would kill me if she knew I said this, but she misses you too…I don’t think she ever imagined you two breaking up.”

The confession knocked the wind from the brunette’s lungs. She leaned heavily on the worn wood counter, afraid her legs would give out. Tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

Waverly’s gaze was drawn to the touch of rough palms, connected to hands that quickly enveloped both of her own. Her mind raced back to another officer, in uniform, that made that same comforting gesture. The ache of missing Nicole hit her soul; it felt like a lifetime ago, since the redhead had held her hand, much less comforted her in this bar over Shorty’s death.

Thick tears cascaded down her cheeks as her longing for Nicole grew, catching her throat, twisting her stomach, and paralyzing her lungs.

But Erin didn’t pull away. Instead, she gently squeezed the brunette’s hands gently, and waited patiently until Waverly had cried herself out.

“I’m sorry,” Waverly muttered, finally pulling one of her hands away to wipe away her tears with a bar napkin. “I never thought we would break up either.”

The brunette watched as Erin pulled her hands back to the other side of the bar. Her fingers nervously twisted her watch again.

When the blonde finally spoke, it was with an apprehensive tone, almost as if she was scared to hear the answer, “Then why stay apart?”

“I’m giving her the space she asked for. I failed in doing it before, it’s all I can do now—and hope she comes back,” Waverly answered slowly, heart-breaking once again.

“Hmm,” Erin hummed.

The officer took another sip of whiskey and was silent for a minute, seemingly lost in thought.

Waverly started to turn away when a blonde eyebrow quirked in her direction, “Nic told me you were smart.”

“I _am!_ ” Waverly huffed, like a child, unsure where this was going.

The blonde smirked, “Well, you thought Nicole and I were together…”

Waverly fumed, “You two have been _inseparable_ since you came to town. What was I supposed to think?”

Erin just looked at her expectantly, head tilted to the side, as if she would wait for the bartender to answer her own question.

“Ugh, ok,” the brunette groaned. “She was probably being her nice self and showing you all around town. Maybe helping you get settled.”

“And catching up. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other, so there was a lot I needed to get up to speed on,” Erin added and smirked, “Especially in the area of Nic’s love life.”

Waverly groaned again and let her head hit the bar, “Ok, ok, ok. But then what am I supposed to do?”

“Hm, well I’d say that’s up to you,” Erin reasoned.

The brunette didn’t move. She knew she wanted Nicole back in her life, but she didn’t have the faintest clue how to repair this mess, other than waiting for the redhead to come back to her.

As if reading Waverly’s mind, Erin spoke up.

“Don't forget, Nic can be stubborn and get in her own way...she's more like a dachshund in that way...but maybe she needs help finding her way back.”

Waverly lifted her head and apprehensively fixed her eyes on the steel blue ones across from her.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I’m sick of seeing my friend mope around,” Erin shrugged. The officer took a sip of her whiskey and shot the brunette another wary look, “And I think you’re good for her…from what she’s told me…and from,” the blonde paused and looked her watch, “however long I’ve been here.”

The bartender worried her lip, “And you still think so after hearing I cheated on her?”

Steel blue eyes flashed for the briefest second, not long enough for Waverly to place the fleeting emotion.

Erin sighed, “I do. I don’t like it, of course, but I do. And Nic screwed up too from what she’s told me.”

The officer paused, and lifted her glass in Waverly’s direction, “But she’s like a sister to me, so I should add, if you break her heart again, I’m comin’ for you.”

Erin added a wicked grin at the end; the brunette didn’t doubt the officer’s seriousness for a second.

“I won’t,” Waverly stated, mustering all the conviction that she could.

The blonde sipped her drink and nodded, “Good.”

The saloon doors groaned open again. Both women turned toward the afternoon sun that streamed in through the entry. Waverly’s heart skipped a beat at the newest customer.

“Nic!” Erin called, “It’s about time!”

The redhead took several tentative steps into the bar, stopping at the top of the stairs. Waverly’s eyes hungrily took in the deputy, noting the tenseness and apprehension in her body language, the way she rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. The brunette’s her gaze locked on the officer’s brown eyes, taking in their guarded warmth. The older woman looked dead on her feet and guilt surged through the bartender’s stomach at realization it was her fault.

The brunette’s eyes moved to take in the deputy’s street clothes: a blue patterned button-up and dark jeans. With another skipped beat, the bartender realized it was the same shirt Nicole wore when she came to the homestead with an envelope of blank papers and they—

“Um, I’m kinda tired. Care if we do a night in instead?”

Erin stood and drained her drink. The wheels in Waverly’s brain turned, trying to think of anything to keep the officers to stay. But the blonde was a step ahead of her.

“Change of plans. I have a date tonight with that cute cashier from the grocery store. Swung by today to pick up some things and she admitted she’s never been with a girl before,” the blonde grinned. With a wink at Waverly, she continued, this time with a fake drawl, “It would not be fair to leave her in such a predicament, especially when I’m _all_ too happy to oblige.”

The newer deputy strode to the visibly uncomfortable redhead and practically skipped up the stairs.

“Sorry to put you out for the night Nic, but you know, duty calls,” the blonde remarked; her tone chipper and free of remorse.

Erin clapped Nicole on the shoulder and, though the blonde’s back was to her, Waverly was sure the shorter woman had a wide grin on her face.

“I know what you’re doing,” the redhead muttered, the words barely reaching Waverly’s ears.

The brunette saw Erin shrug and the taller deputy rolled her eyes in response, “Ok…text me when I can come home.”

Waverly’s stomach twisted at Nicole calling her friend’s place ‘home.’ 

The blonde turned toward Waverly and winked again, before calling, “Have a good night!”

Waverly watched the newer deputy approach the door and behind Nicole’s back, with a pointed look back to the bar, flipped the open sign to closed.

The wooden doors groaned closed, the sound reverberating throughout the empty bar.  


	6. I'm Reaching Out til We Reach the Circle's End

Waverly’s gaze shifted to Nicole, who was rubbing her face with the heel of her hand and appeared unsure what to do next.

“Don’t let her meet Doc,” the brunette called, whisking away Erin’s empty glass. “There won’t be a straight woman left in this town if she perfects his drawl.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” the redhead laughed. “But Doc could learn a thing or two from her.”

The bartender’s ears perked at the sound; a warmth settled in her stomach at how much she missed the officer’s laugh.

Waverly caught the slight shock on Nicole’s face too; as if the noise also startled the redhead, like she hadn’t laughed in a while. The brunette turned, pulled out a bottle of Nicole’s favorite beer, and twisted back to the redhead.

“You look like you could use a drink officer,” Waverly called, popping the top off and placing it on the bar. “On the house.”

Nicole rubbed the back of her neck, “You don’t have to do that, Waverly.”

“I know I don’t, but it sounds like you got sex-iled, so it’s the least I can do,” the brunette shrugged, hoping her voice didn’t reveal her nerves.

The bartender observed the officer’s indecision; the way the Nicole bit the inside of her lip in thought. In her best attempt at keeping things casual, she turned, grabbed a rag, and wiped down the bar top.

Finally, the redhead apprehensively stepped to the bar and sat at her drink.

“So you’re workin’ here again?” Nicole inquired, taking a sip.

“Yep, just a few shifts to help Doc. And, um, I—I’ve been trying to stay busy,” Waverly faltered, not daring to look at the officer; instead resolutely staring at the wood bar top.

 “Yeah, I know the feelin’,” the redhead admitted, softly.

The younger woman lifted her gaze at the confession and saw the officer nervously picking at the label on her beer bottle.

“What else have you been up to?” Nicole asked, eyes focused on the bottle. “I haven’t seen you at the station much.”

“Working on research from home as much as I can,” the bartender answered. “And chasing Wynonna around of course. I started going to another yoga class too.”

Waverly bit her lip as a debate raged in her head: was it pushing her luck to ask what the older woman has been up to?

“What about you?” Waverly blurted out before she had fully made up her mind. She closed her eyes and hurriedly added, “You don’t have to answer that.”

“No…it’s ok,” Nicole reassured.

The brunette opened her eyes to see brown eyes locked on her as the officer ran a hand through her hair.

“Working mostly,” Nicole answered. “I helped Erin move, have been helping her get settled, and…”

“And you’ve been staying there,” the bartender filled in with a shrug. “Sorry, I overheard you two.”

“Yeah…” the redhead trailed off, eyes dropping to the bar top again.

Waverly bit back the “why?” that was on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she stated, “I’m going to clean up some tables, call if you need anything.”

Nicole nodded, and the brunette nearly ran out from behind the bar; putting space between her and the deputy before she pushed Nicole too far.

Making her way to the table from the customers from earlier, she unconsciously pulled her phone from her pocket. A text from an unknown number flashed across the screen with two words and a winking emoji: _Good luck._

She quickly typed back: _I guess this is Erin? Isn’t this kinda cornering her too?_

The response was immediate: _I left her with a treat._

\--

Waverly continued to tidy up, leaving the officer to her thoughts. The only other conversation between the two when the bartender asked her if she wanted another drink.

“Waves,” the Nicole called, her voice heavy as her fingers picked at the label on her second beer.

The shorter woman was at the opposite end of the bar, but walked closer to the redhead, drying her hands on a rag, “You want another?”

The officer shook her head, then paused to clarify as she lifted the bottle and shook it slightly to show it was still half full, “Well not right now, still workin’ on this one.”

Before Waverly could ask if she needed something else, the older woman’s eyes scanned the room, like Erin did earlier in the day. The bartender took in the officer’s dejected body language: how she slumped over with elbows and forearms leaning on the counter and instead of her usual perfect upright posture that radiated confidence.

The body language startled the Earp more than anything. Between the posture, the exhaustion, and discouragement that painted the officer’s face, Nicole barely looked like the woman Waverly knew.

“Have you been working from home to avoid me?” Nicole asked quietly, eyes fixated on the bar top.

The brunette bit her lip as she contemplated how honestly she should answer.

“A—A little bit,” Waverly stammered after nearly a minute of silence. “At first, right after we talked at the homestead, I was afraid if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to give you the distance you wanted…”

The brunette sighed, running a hand over her forehead, “And I was right. When I saw you on the street with Mike, I couldn’t resist saying hi…and asking about things I didn’t have a right to…and jumping to conclusions…”

Waverly took in how the redhead seemed to sag further into her barstool at the confession. Her heart ached at the sight: she should’ve lied, made up some valid excuse for why she hadn’t been by the station.

But, the brunette thought, if they weren’t honest with each other, there was no chance of this working out. Not in the long-term. Not for forever.

And so, her thoughts shifted. She wanted to do anything, _anything_ , the assuage whatever pain the redhead was in and make up for the damage she had caused, because this timid, apprehensive, worried officer in front of her wasn’t her Nicole. 

Her mind jumped to a question: _if this was reversed, what would Nicole do for me?_

The answer was clear, as she recalled how the officer was patient and let Waverly set the pace in all the early stages of their relationship. Nicole insisted that they only move at the brunette’s speed.

With a commitment to letting Nicole set their tempo from here on out, for whatever happened, the brunette reached for the rag again. _Let her set the pace_ running through her mind like a mantra to prevent her from acting on her desire to soothe the woman in front of her; she would wait. However long it took. 

She felt a warm palm cover her hand, stopping her. The brunette’s heart seemed to jump and ache all at once from the contact. The warmth spread from her hand, up her arm, and into her chest. It felt as though a crushing weight had been lifted off her chest; she took a deep breath, and her lungs burned, as though they had been deprived of being wholly full for too long and atrophied.

Confident that the feeling was a delusion, she shifted her bulging eyes to her hand, hidden behind Nicole’s slightly larger one. It had to be a mirage, she thought, or a dream.

Waverly forced her vision to the officer’s face and looked up into wide brown eyes, swimming with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole breathed, “I—I shouldn’t have left you dangling like I did.”

Waverly shifted her hand to grip Nicole’s in both of her own and shook her head.

“You _didn’t_ ,” the brunette stated, feeling the warmth subside at her regrettable actions. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. You were clear that you wanted space.”

Waverly took a deep breath before continuing, “I didn’t respect that, and I’m sorry.”

The older woman’s eyes fell to the bar top. The brunette gently squeezed Nicole’s hand and then loosened her grip, allowing the redhead to take her hand back. Instead, long fingers entwined with her own.

Warmth radiated from their connection again; Waverly felt it spread, throughout her body as if Nicole’s touch seeped into her veins and carried through her bloodstream to every inch of her short frame.

“But I should’ve—”

“No, Nicole,” Waverly interjected.

She wanted nothing more than to kiss the hurt off of Nicole’s face. But she knew she needed to go slow. The officer was so patient with her and let her set the pace early on; it was Waverly’s turn to do the same.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Waverly continued, squeezing Nicole’s hand. “Though I didn’t like that you wanted space, I understood, and…I think you were right that I needed time too. I should have done a better job respecting your wishes. You have always shown such care for me and my needs, and I let you down by not doing the same. It was—it was selfish that I didn’t.”

Apprehension still clouded the redhead’s face; her eyes remained focused downward. 

“Though you were gone, you left me in a way that made me feel loved and cared for. You made my favorite breakfast!” Waverly added, squeezing Nicole’s hand again.

The brunette felt the energy in the room change from that one sentence.

Nicole’s body language eased, and a small smile tugged at her face as if the redhead was fighting it. Her gaze slowly moved upward to Waverly’s face.

“It _is_ the best thing I make,” the older woman smirked, her cocky demeanor peeking through.

The brunette beamed; it was as if _her_ Nicole, full of sunshine was slipping through the clouds of gloom.

Through the sly smile, the redhead inquired, “Was it up to my usual high standard?”

“Definitely,” Waverly smirked. But then added, in a self-deprecated tone, “But, not going to lie, my tears may have made it a little saltier than usual.”

The officer tilted her head, searching Waverly’s eyes. The simple gesture created a lump in the brunette’s throat; she never thought she’d see that caring gaze directed at her again.

The smile on Nicole’s face grew as she offered, “How about I make it for you again…say tonight?”

Waverly blushed, feeling warmth radiate throughout more places than just her cheeks; she missed the officer’s confidence.

“You remember I’m a planner, right?” the brunette smirked. “This isn’t your first rodeo, Officer Haught.”

The bartender noticed the slight flush to the redhead’s cheeks, as the older woman’s head lowered before she bashfully glanced back up through her eyelashes.

“I thought my _famous_ French toast would be a special case,” the officer drawled.

Waverly pretended to contemplate it. She mocked, gesturing around the empty bar, “Well I mean, I’d be giving up a lot of tips…but I _guess_ I can make an exception…but only for breakfast dishes.”

Nicole beamed.

The sight of that beautiful smile, the best and most breathtaking smile Waverly had ever seen and one she would do anything to help it grace the officer’s face, left her breathless.

“Let me close up,” Waverly grinned back.

The brunette rushed around, quickly putting away the essentials, knowing it wouldn’t take long given all the cleaning up she did while the officer drank in silence.

“I, uh, need to stop at the grocery store first if we’re going to my place…” Nicole called, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “…I don’t really have any food there.”

“That’s fine,” the bartender responded without looking up.

A slightly uneasy silence filled the bar. Waverly bit her lip to stop from asking why the officer was staying with Erin.

Sure that the older woman wasn’t ready to answer that question, Waverly changed the topic slightly, continuing to flit around behind the bar, “So tell me, how did you lure a decorated cop from a big city to Purgatory?”

The brunette glanced in Nicole’s direction, noting her furrowed brow.

“I told her, here, she could just be.”

“What do you mean?” the brunette asked, not following.

“Erin’s something like a chameleon,” Nicole admitted. “It’s what made her so well-equipped to do undercover and investigative work. She can blend into any situation without raising eyebrows…and she’s perceptive, able to read people really well so she can be anything, anybody needs, in any given moment…but…”

“But?” Waverly prompted, pausing her movement long enough to shift her gaze to the officer again as the older woman rubbed her forehead.

“But I think what happened in Vancouver rattled her more than she would ever want to admit…the shock and hurt of it all made it hard for her to do the thing she was so good at…hard to be the perfect witness, hard to be the one consoling the families of her partner and the mentor she admired so much…she had told me when the trial was still ongoing that, once it was over, she needed a change of scenery.”

Nicole paused, and the bartender watched as she took a long swig of her beer before she continued, “It was lucky mostly. We had an opening. She had a million offers, as you can imagine, but I told her, here, she wouldn’t have to worry about blending in. Being new in a small town means you stick out anyways. Nedley told her upfront, she doesn’t need to commit to staying here long term…I don’t imagine she will either, but I think it’s good for her.”

Waverly started flicking light switches, “When you’re finished your beer, I’m ready.”

The redhead stood, draining the last of her drink. The brunette swiped the bottle off the bar and tossed it in a bin.

Nicole came to a stop just before the exit and tilted her head to the closed sign, distinctly puzzled.

“Erin flipped it when she left,” Waverly replied, answering the silent question.

The officer laughed as the pair stepped out into the setting sun.

“Why didn’t you mention she was coming to town?” the Earp asked, apprehensively as they walked out the door.

“Oh.”

The redhead came to a stop just outside the doors, eyebrows raised in surprise. The shorter woman felt her muscles tense at the hesitation.

“It just happened really quickly. The transfer process normally takes a lot longer and isn’t a sure thing, but Nedley and folks in Vancouver were able to pull some strings to expedite it.”

Waverly let out a breath she didn’t consciously realize she was holding.

Nicole cocked her head to the side, searching the brunette’s eyes as she asked, “Was that bothering you?”

“A little,” the younger woman admitted with a shy smile.

The officer apologized, “I’m sorry…I guess I didn’t want to get my hopes up that she was comin’ either.”

Nicole’s eyes moved to the street, and the Earp could feel, and see, anxiety and uncertainty building in the redhead’s body language.

“So…ummm…are we riding together? Or do you want to meet me at the store?” the officer asked, eyes locked on the ground. “Shit, or would you rather go to the homestead? I didn’t even ask—”

“What do you want?” Waverly interjected, tone gentle, even though the officer’s nervous tone made her chest ache. Her fingers twitched, wanting to link with the redhead’s but she fought the urge.

“Whatever you prefer—”

“Nicole,” the younger woman interrupted again; this time, she allowed a hand to reach out, index finger extended, to lift the taller woman’s chin until their eyes met. “I want to do whatever you want and whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

She shifted her hand to gently caress the older woman’s jaw. Nicole’s eyes flickered closed, as she let out a deep breath and leaned into the touch.

“Ride with me?” the officer breathed. “I can drive you back later for your Jeep.”

Waverly smiled and whispered, “Ok.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! While I hope to keep up with my quick posting, it might be a week or so until I get the final installment posted. Full-time work, a master's class, plus literature review for a possible thesis topic means my writing time has been cut drastically...and I want to make sure I get the final portion right. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! The kudos and comments mean the world!


	7. And Again I See My Yesterday's in Front of Me, Unfolding like a Mystery; You're Changing All That Is and Used to Be

Three bulging grocery bags later, Waverly and Nicole stepped across the threshold of the officer’s home.

The younger woman breathed deeply, expecting to inhale the familiar scents of vanilla and lavender that always lingered around the older woman’s cozy place. But instead, it smelled…empty? Hollow?

Nicole closed the door behind her, flicked the lights on to illuminate the living room, before continuing to the kitchen.

But Waverly froze, several feet inside the entrance. Her eyes darted between the layer of dust on the coffee table, the closed blinds, and the cold couch that looked as though no one had sat there in weeks. The brunette’s gaze shifted, and her stomach dropped at the sight of vacant backrest: the blanket that the older woman kept there for easy access for the always-cold Waverly was gone.   

“Waves?”

Nicole’s soft voice pulled her from gaping at the sofa, she turned, quickly closing her ajar jaw.

“Yes?”

A small smile graced the officer’s face as she stood in the archway to the kitchen, “It’s good to have you here.”

The brunette felt the corners of her mouth pull up as she grinned back.

“It’s…um…good to be back,” she replied.

“Want to give me a hand?”

Waverly nodded and followed Nicole into the kitchen. For what felt like the hundredth time that night, she pondered how to ask the officer why she had left her home.

“What can I do?” the brunette inquired.

“Umm…do you mind wiping down some of the counters, so we have a better prep space. They’re a little…dusty,” the taller woman answered sheepishly.

The Earp looked at the deputy, noticing the blush that crept into her cheeks.

“Yep, I’ll get the table too so we can eat there,” the younger woman replied, opening a drawer and fishing a rag out.

“Thanks,” Nicole acknowledged, emptying the shopping bags and placing a six-pack of beer and a carton of milk in the nearly empty fridge.

“It looks like you haven’t been here for a while,” Waverly pointed out, hesitant to see the redhead’s reaction.   

She glanced over at Nicole just in time to see the officer drop the loaf of bread in her hands.

“Oh, um, yeah.”

“Can I ask why?” Waverly asked, gently.

“Yeah…I just, ugh, I couldn’t face it, Waves. Everything reminded me of you…and my bed, the blankets, pillows, everything smelled like you too. And…” the redhead trailed off, eyes averting to the side.

“And?” Waverly encouraged, softly.

Nicole sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she leaned up against a cabinet. “I couldn’t bring myself to wash anything…in case, I never got to smell that…again.”

A grimace spread across the older woman’s face; Waverly thought the officer might have attempted a reassuring smile but fell short.

“Nicole,” Waverly breathed, tenderness infused in that one word, as pain wrapped around her lungs.

Her feet automatically carried her to the edge of the older woman’s space. The Earp held herself back at the last second and stopped suddenly, weight shifting to her toes as if she teetered on the edge of a drop-off.

“It’s ok,” Nicole attempted to reassure, but the brunette could see through the forced tone and into the sorrow that filled wide brown eyes.

Tension filled the redhead’s body language, and Waverly reined in the urge to pull the older woman into her arms. Instead, she apprehensively asked, “Can I hug you?”

The brunette watched the officer’s eyes grow glassy as she nodded.

Cautiously, Waverly took another step forward and wrapped her arms around the taller woman. When Nicole’s arms mirrored her own, and the redhead’s head rested on her shoulder, the younger woman tightened her hold, pulling the deputy closer.

The Earp breathed deeply, inhaling the calming combination of Nicole’s vanilla body wash and the lavender laundry detergent that lingered on the officer’s clothes. She hung onto that smell, using it to ground her, steady her as she spoke words that she hoped would calm the officer. 

“Nicole, I’ll be here, with you, as long as you want me to be,” Waverly said into the taller woman’s shoulder. “I know we need to talk about…a lot, but…I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness or your trust back. I’m only going to ask for a chance—a chance to earn it…but whatever happens, if anything, Nicole, it’s all at your pace, your comfort.”

The officer’s body tensed in her grip and, for a panicked moment, the brunette feared she had overstepped, pushed too far.

But then with a shuddering breath in the younger woman’s ear, Nicole broke. The redhead leaned heavily into her arms, sobbing. Waverly’s own eyes spilled silent tears at the older woman’s anguish, and all the pain she put the deputy through wrapped around her chest. She pulled the older woman as close to her as she could.

Waverly stood there, murmuring words of comfort and attempting to soothe the taller woman by rubbing circles on her back until Nicole had cried herself out. With a deep breath and a grateful squeeze, the redhead stepped back.

“Sorry,” the officer mumbled, and the brunette watched the other woman hastily wipe her eyes with the heel of her hand, “I soaked the sleeve of your shirt.”

The Earp barely glanced at her shoulder and shrugged, genuinely unconcerned about that, “It’s ok, it’ll dry.”

Nicole’s gaze dropped to her feet as she continued to dry her face, “Did you mean what you said?”

“Nic, look at me.”

Waverly waited until brown eyes slowly lifted to meet her own before she replied, “I meant _every_ word.”

The deputy silently nodded, and her gaze slid to the floor again. The brunette opened her mouth to speak again but was cut off by a rumble from the redhead’s stomach.

With a giggle, Waverly stated, “I swear, we’ll talk, but I think your stomach is reminding us that you promised me French toast.”

Nicole laughed too, “Yeah, I’ll get on that.”

\--

After eating and cleaning up, Waverly opened a bottle of wine she bought at the store and carried two glasses to the couch. The women sat at opposite ends of the sofa, facing each other.

As Waverly settled in, sipping her wine, Nicole spoke up, “Can I say something first?”

“Of course,” the brunette replied immediately, setting her glass on the coffee table and watching how Nicole played with the turquoise ring on her finger.

“I…um…I’m glad we’re talking, and I’m glad you’re here, but…” the redhead trailed off.

 _But?_ Waverly thought. Panic coursed through her body at that one single word.

Terror must have shown on her face, because Nicole scooted closer, extending her hand with the palm facing up.

“Sorry, don’t worry, this isn’t about you,” the older woman clarified.

Waverly’s own arm automatically darted to the redhead’s, entwining their fingers. Confusion surged through her.

“But what?” the brunette asked, gaze locked on their connected hands.

“But I still don’t trust myself.”

That puzzled the younger woman even more. Her eyebrows knitted together as she racked her brain for what the officer could mean.

“You don’t trust yourself…to?” she inquired, drawing out the words slowly.

Nicole’s fingers twitched in her grasp, and the brunette squeezed the deputy’s hand gently before rubbing calming circles on the back of her hand.

“In…in my letter, I told you I don’t trust myself to…umm…” the redhead trailed off, and realization hit Waverly.

She inched closer to Nicole until their knees touched. The redhead’s vision was aimed off to the side, looking at the coffee table. The brunette reached out with her unoccupied hand and gently turned the deputy’s head until their eyes met.

“ _I_ trust you. I _know_ you’ll never do something like that again.”

The redhead searched her eyes in silence. Waverly guessed the older woman was looking for insincerity or deceit in her features.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Nic,” Waverly breathed, gently holding the redhead’s jaw. “You’re…”

The brunette trailed off trying to find the right words, “…the _best_. You said that I deserve better, but no one can anyone top the kindest, most caring and trustworthy person I’ve ever met. This doesn’t change that.”

The officer took a deep breath and her eyes closed; the brunette felt her lean into the palm on her cheek.

“But speaking of your letter,” Waverly added, and the older woman’s brown eyes quickly flickered open again. “I realized why I kissed Rosita.”

The brunette noticed how Nicole visibly swallowed and tension built in her shoulders. She pulled her hand back from the officer’s face but continued rubbing the hand in her own.

Forcing herself to maintain eye contact with the taller woman, she took a deep breath, as a weight built in her stomach, that had nothing to do with the food she consumed, and continued, “I—I was looking for comfort in the wrong place. I was frustrated and scared, and I felt alone, and…Nicole, I should’ve run to you instead. I never should have even been in that damn spa, I should’ve—”

Nicole interrupted, “Waves, it’s ok. I understand.”

“You do?”

The redhead nodded.

\--

They talked into the early hours of the morning, laughing and crying over the bottle of wine.

Nicole insisted it was too late for Waverly to drive back to the homestead and, though the younger woman offered, several times, to stay on the couch, they shared a bed for the first time in weeks.

It was platonic, but the simple act of sleeping, skin to skin, was a balm to the Earp’s soul as they cuddled together with the brunette’s head tucked into the officer’s chest. The redhead’s steady heartbeat lulled the younger woman to sleep as it had so many times before.

And, for the first time in what felt like years, Waverly had joyous dreams, all with Nicole by her side.

\--

They don’t get back together—at least not right away.

Their lives remained chaotic, as always, but they spend more stolen moments together than they ever had: coffee breaks together and taking the long way back to town from after a mission. And they make a point to spend more time together, away from the group. With more real dates than they ever had as a new couple.

They both read a book on couple’s communication that Waverly found on Amazon. It helps them overcome the inevitable moments of strain and stress that come with being a couple; And being a couple in Purgatory trying to put an end to a hundred-year-old curse meant stress was destined. They took the lessons to heart and committed to honesty and openness.

It’s not easy for Waverly, and she knows it’s hard for Nicole too, but they slowly divulge portions of their lives that they had hidden or skimmed over to protect one another.

\--

After Erin helped a panicked Jeremy trap a loose, potentially demonic, creature that escaped its enclosure, Dolls inducted the new deputy into BBD. The extra member of the crew meant Nicole and Waverly could, finally, leave the Ghost River Triangle for a long weekend getaway without worrying about leaving the team short-handed.

Nicole took Waverly sky-diving. In the interest of overcoming things that scare them, the officer had worked with the local zoo to go behind-the-scenes in the reptile house to hold snakes. The Earp was shocked, but her heart swelled as she watched the older woman’s initial panic, at the thought of touching the scaly creature, fade once the harmless animal snuggled up against her arm.

On the last night morning of their trip, they rose early, hiked to a local observation point, and watched the sunrise. It was a Monday, and they had the area to themselves as they cuddled together for warmth, sitting on a blanket, enjoying a thermos of coffee and muffins from a local bakery.

Once the glowing round orb had fully crested the horizon, Waverly felt a tender kiss on her cheek.

“Waves,” the brunette turned to the officer. “I want to conquer another fear before we go back to Purgatory."

“What’s that?”

The younger woman could feel the nervous energy coming from the redhead as Nicole took a deep breath, “When you first told me that you kissed Rosita, I was afraid that I would never be able to fully trust you again. We broke up, and I panicked over the idea that we would never get back together. Nothing, _nothing_ , was scarier than that thought…”

Waverly unconsciously linked their hands, as she noted the tears filling the older woman’s eyes.

“…but you’ve given me time. Time to push that fear and worry to the back of my mind and focus on us being better for each other…and, since we haven’t really labeled this reincarnation of us as anything, I don’t want to worry about being apart from you again…”

Waverly’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend again?”

An unsure but devious smile graced Nicole’s face as she shifted to pull a small box from her pocket, “Wife, actually.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following along! I’ve appreciated every kudos and comment along the way and I hope you all enjoy this last chapter.
> 
> I had asked earlier if folks were interested in reading this from Nicole’s point of view. It likely wouldn’t be as long, but comment if that’s something you’re interested in. I could also add the scene where Erin helps Jeremy too, which would be on the more light-hearted side if you guys are interested. I’m at your mercy :)
> 
> Regardless thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys are awesome!


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